Page 70 of A Newport Christmess

“I think you overthink everything. Landon likes you. You like him. That doesn’t mean you need to decide right now if you’re going to get married and have a ton of babies. It means you just have fun and see what happens.” She paused. “And you are having fun, aren’t you?”

My phone chimed, and I glanced down to see a text message from my mom.

Mom: Dad and I bought you a return ticket for the 23rd. Can’t wait to see you!

I groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“My mom bought me a return ticket to San Diego for the twenty-third.”

“I thought you wanted to stay in Newport.”

My stomach twisted. “I do. I probably should have worded my refusal a little stronger.”

“What did you say?”

“That she didn’t have to buy me a ticket.”

“Yeah ... that’s not a refusal. That’s what you say when you feel bad someone has to pick up the tab for you, but not too bad because you actually want them to.”

“What was I supposed to say? Sorry I don’t want to spend Christmas with the family this year because I’m carrying a large load of emotional damage, and I dread the thought of being around Margaret and Michael on the anniversary of when Cody walked out on me?”

“Yeah, that probably would have worked better.”

I carried my piping bag back to the table and sank down in the chair. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Do you want to stay in Newport?”

I propped the phone back up on the table. “Yes.”

“Then stay.”

“What about the ticket? It probably cost my parents a fortune. And they’ll be so disappointed if I don’t go. Not to mention Margaret won’t talk to me for, like, a month.”

“You know I adore your family, so I’m saying this from a place of love, but it’s kind of their fault. You’re a grown woman. You can make your own decisions, and you don’t need to feel bad every time you don’t bend to everyone’s expectations.”

“But maybe I should just go home. It’s not like I have plans here, anyway.”

“Wow. I think you missed what I said. Like, every word.”

“No, I heard you. And I love you for it. But I think I’m just being selfish and petty, and I need to suck it up. Besides, I honestly love being with my family at Christmas.”

“So, if in the end you decide to go home, that’s fine. Just be the one making the choice.”

“I don’t like making choices.”

“Then your life will never be your own. Your parents will happily keep making choices for you—flying you home, getting you a job, telling you what to do and what goals to have. Exactly like Cody did when you were together.” Ashlee paused and let out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry that was probably sucky to hear, but I love you, and I want the best for you.”

I stared vacantly at the phone, Ashlee’s words gnawing their way into my conscience. “I know you do.”

“Despite what you’ve been led to believe, Quinn, you are extremely competent. Trust yourself enough to see it.”

* * *

Ashlee’s words circled around my mind for hours as I finished the cabin and started on the replica of Kade’s childhood home. I didn’t get much done on it before my eyes grew heavy and my fingers ached too much to continue, but it was probably enough to justify going out with Landon tomorrow night.

When I climbed into bed, I needed to decompress. I started by scrolling through my comments, responding to some and liking all the others. This was the problem with social media for me. I never felt like I could only interact with a handful of followers and not feel guilty. But I was learning that interacting with every last one was an unrealistic goal. And thankfully, Landon had exaggerated the number of comments on my video, and it took me only about thirty minutes to scroll through all one hundred and forty of them, responding to the occasional one.